The Twelfth Hour
by Frisco
Summary: McKay and Weir are missing, and Sheppard goes to find them.  Rating is for violence.


Radek Zelenka propped his elbows on the desk, holding his head in his hands. He was simply not cut out for this.

"Are you still not able to contact them?"

Chuck shook his head. "I've tried every hour as you instructed. Nothing."

Radek stood wearily. "I'll be in the infirmary. Notify me immediately if there is any change."

"Yes, Doctor."

Zelenka slunk down the stairs and out of the gateroom. Colonel Sheppard was going to be so angry when he found out, and Radek really hated to be the one to tell him. This damn flu! One Marine kisses the wrong person on Daedalus and suddenly half the military is in quarantine.

At Teyla's first sniffle, McKay barricaded himself in his lab which turned out to be the smartest course of action. He was symptom free after three days while his team was bedridden in the infirmary. Of course, Major Lorne would pick this time to find a planet with energy readings powerful enough to indicate a ZPM. Rodney decided he had to check it out, and Weir thought she needed to handle the negotiations, which did make sense based on previous experience.

All of which left one Radek Zelenka in charge. And now Lorne's team, along with Weir and McKay, were overdue and could not be reached.

The Czech scientist entered the infirmary and headed toward the isolation area where the flu victims were quarantined only to be intercepted by Carson.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"I need to speak to Colonel Sheppard."

"I don't think so. The man has a raging fever that only now is beginning to drop. He needs rest and lots of it."

"You don't understand, Carson. There's a problem-"

"This is Atlantis, Radek. There's always a problem."

"Doctors Weir and McKay are missing along with Major Lorne's team."

Concern colored Carson's face. "Missing? For how long?"

"Five hours. I need to let the colonel know."

Carson's brows drew together as he studied Zelenka's face. "As much as I hate to say it, you're right. He needs to know."

The two men made their way to Sheppard's bedside. The colonel was sleeping fitfully, sweat beading his forehead even as he shivered.

"He looks terrible," Zelenka whispered.

"He's had a rough go of it," Beckett admitted. "They all have. Teyla is being treated for dehydration, and I will have to put Ronon on oxygen if his breathing doesn't improve soon."

Radek gently shook John's shoulder. "Colonel Sheppard? Can you hear me?"

The pilot moaned and shifted away from the contact.

"Colonel? It is very important. Please wake up." Getting no response, Zelenka turned to Carson. "Is there anything you can do?"

Beckett checked the military commander's pulse and listened to his breathing. He grasped the man's jaw and gently tapped his face. "John? I need you to open your eyes."

Sheppard's breath hitched, and his eyes slowly opened. "C'rs'n?"

"Yes, lad. I need you to wake up and listen."

John shivered and pulled the blanket tightly around himself. "'M 'wake." His lids began to close again.

"Colonel Sheppard?" Radek ventured.

The pilot jerked at his name and blinked awake again. "Dr. Z?"

"Yes, Colonel. I need you to listen to me carefully. Major Lorne's team is missing."

"Missing? How long?" he slurred.

"Five hours."

The head of Atlantis' military pushed himself up in the bed until he was almost sitting upright. "And you can't get them on the radio?"

"No."

Sheppard stiffened as his eyes searched the room. "What else, Radek?"

The Czech sighed. "McKay and Dr. Weir are with him."

"What?" The hazel eyes narrowed and focused. "Elizabeth and Rodney went with Lorne?"

Zelenka nodded, trading glances with Beckett. "The major thought they might have located a ZPM."

"And Rodney just had to go see for himself. What about Elizabeth?"

"She went to negotiate."

"Of course she did." John's entire body shook, but Radek didn't know if it was from chills or anger. "Why didn't someone tell me?"

Definitely anger. "I be-" Zelenka began.

"Elizabeth did tell you, son," Carson interrupted, "but I don't think you were coherent enough to understand."

"How long ago did they leave?"

"Almost eleven hours."

Sheppard pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Beckett placed a hand on John's shoulder, halting him.

"To find my people, Doc."

"I don't think so. You can barely stand."

The pilot gradually got to his feet, swaying slightly. "Then give me something to help."

"Are you crazy?"

John took a deep breath. "Maybe, but that's Rodney and Elizabeth we're talking about, plus Lorne's team. I can't leave them out there. As soon as I find them, I'll be back, and you can keep me here as long as you think necessary. Please, Carson."

Beckett regarded Sheppard for a moment before relenting. "I'll be right back." The doctor headed for the supply cabinet and began rummaging through it.

"Dr. Z, can you find a radio for me?"

Radek pulled an earpiece from his pocket. "I thought you might need one."

Sheppard gave him a tired smile. "Thanks. Please contact the duty officer and have a team of Marines meet me in the armory in twenty minutes."

OoOoOoOoO

John's head felt like it was splitting open, and chills still raced up and down his spine. He hoped Carson had something that would get him going. Beckett returned with a couple of syringes and a handful of pills.

"This is a stimulant, Colonel, and this is something to help with the fever. The pills are additional stimulants but take them only if you really need them. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Carson, I've got it."

"Listen to me, John. You are still very weak from the flu, and what you are doing is dangerous. If it wasn't for the fact that I know I can't stop you, I would never agree to this. You are just as valuable as they are, you know. Please be very careful."

Sheppard stared solemnly at the Scot. "I will. Thank you, Carson. And take good care of Ronon and Teyla for me."

"Aye. That I will."

John left the infirmary as soon as his feet were solidly underneath him and went to his quarters for a quick shower and his gear. Pulling on his standard BDUs and black t-shirt, he laced up his boots and shrugged into his tac vest, checking his supplies even though he restocked it after every mission. He strapped on his thigh holster and checked his Glock to make sure it was loaded and a round was chambered. He stuffed the pills Beckett gave him in his pants pocket and, grabbing his aviator shades, hurried to the armory.

Four Marines, led by Captain Yates, waited for him there. He briefed them on the situation and snagged his favorite P-90. Sheppard decided they needed another pilot and called Stackhouse to join them in the jumper bay. The stimulant was definitely helping although he knew he'd pay the price later.

They boarded the jumper, and John dialed the planet. Getting clearance from Flight, Stackhouse lowered the ship into the gateroom and took off. They exited the other side to an empty field.

"Sheppard to Lorne."

Nothing but static greeted him.

"Sheppard to McKay. Rodney, can you hear me? Elizabeth?"

The HUD popped up as he scanned for their subcutaneous transmitters. Six glowing dots responded, five in relative proximity of each other, but one quite a distance away. Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he directed Stackhouse toward the closest one. Unfortunately, all of the dots seemed to be inside the forest that rimmed the field. They landed as near to the woods as possible, and John grabbed an LSD, his heart stopping when only three life signs corresponded to transmitters.

"Stackhouse, stay with the jumper. Yates, your team is with me."

They cautiously made their way through the dense foliage toward the first dot, Yates covering their six as John took point, blinking rapidly at the LSD as he fought the wooziness and tried not to fall. Ten minutes later, they found Major Lorne lying on his back gasping for breath.

"Lorne! What happened?" Evan's head turned at the sound of Sheppard's voice, and John knelt beside him, anger replacing shock as he examined his second in command. The major had been beaten severely, eyes swollen shut and numerous cuts and bruises on his face. A couple of fingers were broken, and blood stained the front of his uniform. The way he cradled his ribs and struggled to breathe worried John.

"MacKenzie, you and Nguyen run to the jumper for a stretcher. Double time it, Lieutenant!"

"Yes Sir!" The Marines raced back the way they had come.

"Hold still, Evan. We'll get you out of here. Can you tell me what happened? Where are McKay and Weir? Where is your team?"

The major swallowed convulsively and groaned. "Weir… don't know. McKay's… hurt. Team… dead." He shuddered and coughed, moaning at the pain before going limp.

"Lorne!" John pressed his fingers against the man's carotid artery, relieved to find a heartbeat. After a couple of minutes, MacKenzie and Nguyen returned, bearing two stretchers.

"We brought the other one just in case."

"Good thinking, Lieutenant. You and Nguyen carry Lorne to the jumper. Tell Stackhouse to take him to Atlantis and get back here as soon as you can. We're going to keep searching for the others."

The two Marines carefully placed the major on the stretcher and left while Sheppard, Yates and Reardon continued toward the second dot. Along the way they found the bodies of two of Lorne's team. John could feel the rage building inside at the brutality of the wounds. These men had been tortured and left to die slowly.

Sheppard stumbled as he felt lightheaded and reached out to steady himself against a tree. He quickly downed two of the pills Carson had given him and resumed the search.

John heard a low moan as they approached the second dot. He could make out a dark figure sprawled on the ground, face down. As he got closer, he recognized Rodney's form. His shirt was ripped, and Sheppard could see burn marks on the scientist's back. He gently turned his friend over, biting back an expletive as the fury inside him grew. McKay had received the same treatment as Lorne. Blood trickled from his nose, and his face was battered and bruised. The knuckles on his right hand were swollen and distended. It would take a while for all the breaks to heal.

"Knew you'd come."

The whispered words jerked John's gaze back to McKay's face.

"God, Rodney. What happened?"

"I got… beat up."

"I can see that, McKay. What did you say?"

"Told them what they could do with their ZedPM."

"Bet that went over well."

"Just like always."

"Where's Elizabeth?"

"I don't know. I wanted to find her, but I can't seem to make my legs work."

John felt the blood drain from his face. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll find her. We'll get you back to Atlantis, and Beckett will fix you right up."

Rodney gave him a ghost of a smile. "Think I'll get the really good drugs?"

"Yeah, I think you've earned them. Now, is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Lots of stuff I could tell you, unification theory, chaos theory, theory of rela-"

"About what happened here."

"Oh. Some of the natives are a little xenophobic. It seems a group of dissidents have become quite vocal in their opposition to trading with off-worlders. Just after we arrived, one of their leaders disappeared." The more he talked, the more slurred McKay's words became.

"And they blamed you for it?"

Rodney nodded as his eyes began sliding shut.

"Stay with me McKay."

"Hmmm. Can't. Hurts."

"I know it does. We're going to have you back in Atlantis before you know it."

Blue eyes suddenly flew open. "Sheppard, tell Jeannie-"

"I don't want to hear it, McKay."

"Please, tell her-"

"Rodney-"

"Shut up and listen." McKay's breathing was growing worse. "Madi's birthday is next week, and I was supposed to be there. Tell her I'm sorry I can't be there."

"Oh. I'll tell her, Rodney. Don't worry. Now hold on."

John glanced down as McKay's left hand slid to the ground, only then noticing the gaping wound in his side. Blood ran freely from it, and Sheppard swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He was going to find the bastard that had done this and make him wish he'd never been born. Grabbing a field dressing, he bandaged the wound as best he could. They didn't have a c-collar, and, judging from the amount of blood he'd lost, Rodney couldn't wait until they got one.

"Yates, you and Reardon load him on that stretcher and head to the gate. If Stackhouse gets back before you get there, have him fly you back. Otherwise, get him to Beckett as fast as you can. Understood?"

"What about you, Sir?"

"I'm going to find Weir. Send two more teams through as backup."

"Yes, Sir."

John squeezed Rodney's shoulder gently. "Hang in there, McKay." Then he grabbed his LSD and headed for the third dot. He was going to assume it was Elizabeth until proved otherwise. He used the mental images of Rodney and Evan to fuel his rage which in turn kept his mind focused and his body moving.

After twenty minutes of steady stalking, he came to a clearing. He checked the detector again. The solitary dot was nearby.

"Elizabeth? It's John."

A bush rustled on his right, and he turned slowly in that direction.

"John?" Brown curls emerged from the brush and suddenly a thin form was hurtling toward him.

"Oh, thank God!" She threw her arms around him, her entire body trembling. She began babbling. "I've been trying to get to the gate for hours. I lost my radio and my GDO, but I had to do something."

He pulled back from her, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"N-n-no." She turned away, shoulders shaking as she fought for control. "I got away. We were attacked. Did I tell you we were attacked?"

"I know. McKay told me."

She whirled around, wide-eyed. "Rodney! Is he… are they…."

"Rodney and Evan are on their way to Atlantis. Carson will take care of them. I need to get you out of here."

"I don't know the way to the gate."

"Don't worry. I can find it. Let's go."

"What about the other men?"

Sheppard shook his head. "They didn't make it."

"Oh."

He changed the settings on the LSD to reflect energy signatures and got two strong readings. One was the stargate, and the other must be McKay's ZPM. Now he just had to figure out which was which. He studied the display and tried to reconstruct his trek through the forest. He was fairly certain it was to the left so they headed that way.

Weir had grown very quiet, and John risked a quick glance at her face. Drawn and white, she appeared lost in her own world.

"How did you get out here by yourself?" he asked.

"What?"

"How did you get away?"

Her face turned pink. "I was in the ladies' room when they attacked."

"You're kidding."

"Like I would make that up." Her gaze dropped to the ground. "I hid until they left, intending to get help, but my way to the gate was blocked. One of the dissidents caught me, but I got away from him and ran into the forest. I've been slowly making my way back since then."

"Impressive for someone who rarely leaves her office."

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Surely you don't think that all the time I spend with Teyla is taken up with paperwork and gossip."

He shrugged. "I guess I thought you did girl stuff."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him. "While I would never deny a need to be around another female, we do other things than just our nails. She's been teaching me to use the bantos rods and a little wilderness survival training."

"Really?"

"Really, Colonel. I didn't really think I would need it, but it came in handy today."

"Are you any good with the bantos rods?"

"Define 'good'."

"Can last more than five seconds with Teyla."

"Oh, in that case, yes I am."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"It's not that. It's just-"

"You can't last that long?"

John felt the blush move up his neck. "I can. I just usually don't."

Weir snickered at him. "Maybe you should practice more."

"That's what Teyla says."

Sheppard reset the LSD to life sign mode and discovered several new dots between them and the stargate. He propped the barrel of the P-90 on his wrist, glancing at the display. They skirted around the majority of the dots, and he was grateful for the thick underbrush.

They had almost cleared the area when shots rang out. John dove for Weir, knocking her to the ground as bullets peppered the area, dirt and leaves flying around them. As he struggled to stand, the light-headed feeling returned. He stumbled a couple of steps and then felt a slug rip through the back of his shoulder, throwing him to the ground. His world turned white and then red as pain seared through his back and chest.

He rolled over, bring the P-90 to ready, but he was too late. Three armed men dressed as soldiers stood around him, one holding a gun tightly to Elizabeth's head.

"Drop it."

John let the weapon slide from his fingers as the other two men took his tac vest, Glock and knife.

"Get him up," ordered Moe who was still clutching Weir.

Larry and Curly obeyed, yanking Sheppard to his feet. Moe studied him for a minute and then glared at Elizabeth.

"More off-worlders. What have you done with Bindre?"

"We haven't done anything. We don't even know who that is," she answered.

The man slapped her hard. "None of your lies!"

Weir drew herself to her full height and stared haughtily at the man, disdain dripping from every pore. She pressed her lips tightly together in defiance.

"I see. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way. Bring him."

Curly shoved John, causing him to promptly fall down again. Larry kicked him in the back and growled at him to get up. Sheppard staggered to his feet and headed in the direction Moe indicated. After a few minutes, they broke through the tree line into a small camp.

When the men took a moment to rifle through his tac vest, John fished the rest of Beckett's pills from his pants pocket and dry swallowed all of them. He knew he'd never get another chance, and he needed every advantage.

Moe continued to cling to Elizabeth while Larry retrieved a chair and Curly tied Sheppard to it, hands behind his back.

"Understand one thing, Lantian. Your life means nothing to me. If she answers my questions, you live. If not, you die."

John wasn't sure if his heart began racing at the threat or because the pills were taking effect. He felt adrenaline surge through him again and glared at the three men. Then the blows began to rain down. His lip split, and a cut opened above his eye as he was struck repeatedly. His head snapped back again at another blow to his temple, and spots danced in his vision. He could vaguely hear Moe shouting questions at Weir and her continued denials of involvement.

He felt his nose break under the last punch, and blood poured down his face. He looked up to find Elizabeth staring at him, tears in her eyes. He nodded to her, just as he'd done when Kolya had him. She was doing the right thing, and he needed her to know he approved. He tried to tilt his head back to slow the blood flow and got slapped as a result.

Moe snarled at Weir. "At least this one doesn't scream like the last one. You will tell me where Bindre is, or I'll kill him. I swear it. And when I finish with him, you're next." He turned to Curly. "Get the steloch."

Curly ducked into one of the tents and returned with a small bottle. Larry ripped Sheppard's shirt near the bullet's entrance area. He took the bottle from Curly and poured it directly into the wound.

John tried to hold back the scream but failed. His shoulder felt like it was on fire. The substance was similar to rubbing alcohol and burned every ragged nerve it touched. He shuddered against the pain, trying to catch his breath when it hit again. And then again. He was practically hoarse by the time the bottle was empty. Sagging forward, he panted as his vision grayed and his head spun. Then he felt a slight give in the bindings. The liquid had run down his arms and wrists, making his hands slick.

His eyes focused on the metal rod Larry pulled from the fire and brought toward him. He heard Weir whimper, and he thought back to the burns on Rodney's back. Using that image as a catalyst, he released control to the rage that had been building inside. He drew in a deep breath and pulled as hard as he could on the bonds on his wrists. After a bit of initial resistance, they slid from his fists.

He roared in anger and leapt straight at Larry who froze in surprise. John dove at his mid-section, tackling him cleanly. Grabbing the soldier's jaw and the back of his head, Sheppard twisted with all his might, breaking the man's neck. Then he snatched the poker and rolled onto his back as Curly rushed forward, gun drawn. He lashed out, knocking the weapon to the ground, and, whirling in a move Teyla had never seen, he rammed the rod into and through Curly's abdomen.

Moe gaped at Sheppard in amazement but still held tightly to Weir. "I'll kill her, Lantian. I swear it."

John met Weir's gaze, blinking in surprise when she nodded imperceptibly at him. Suddenly she elbowed Moe in the face, spinning away from him. That was all the opening Sheppard needed. He slammed the man to the ground, repeatedly punching him in the face, infuriated.

"_Team…dead_."

"_Sheppard, tell Jeannie…_"

"…_we were attacked…_"

"…_when I finish with him, you're next_…"

"John! Stop!" Weir shouted. "Stop!"

He froze, looking down at the bloody mess he'd made. Slowly he climbed to his feet, wavering as his heart raced and his head swam. Elizabeth turned him to face her.

"We need to get out of here before more men come." Weir held his tac vest and weapons. "We need to go now."

He pulled on the vest, clipped his P-90 to it and strapped on his Glock. He started to follow Weir out of the camp when Kolya's voice echoed in his head.

"_The smart thing to do would be to kill me now_."

John paused, considering. Kolya had been right that day; Sheppard should have killed him. Rubbing the scar in the center of his chest, he decided he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Walking back to Moe, John pulled his gun and put a bullet between the man's eyes. He turned to see Elizabeth staring at him in shock.

"Now we can go," he said, heading toward the stargate signal.

OoOoOoOoO

"Colonel Sheppard!" Weir ran to catch up to him, grabbing his arm. "What the hell was that? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that he killed three of my men. I was thinking that he almost killed Lorne and McKay. I was thinking that he was going to kill you and me. I was thinking that the last time I let a guy like that go I got fed to a Wraith! Now, can we get out of here?" He yanked his arm from her grasp and continued forward.

"John, you can't just-"

Sheppard wheeled around and pinned her with a dark stare. She took an involuntary step backward at the rage behind his eyes.

"Yes, Elizabeth, I can. When my people are in danger, I can, and I will. That's my job," he stated flatly.

She stared at him, stunned. Who was this? Where was the casual pilot with the easy smile and quick wit? A memory flitted in her mind, of Genii terrorists and a calm Major pointing a gun. "_I'm not aiming at her_." She had seen these cold eyes before but only that once, and then he'd morphed almost immediately back into the John Sheppard she knew. She'd read his file, knew about previous assignments and training, but those were just words. To see it in person was frightening.

His eyes became unfocused, and he swayed as his knees began to buckle. He stumbled backward, and Elizabeth hurried to him, careful to not touch his injured shoulder. Wrapping her fingers around his other bicep, she guided him to a tree stump. His skin was hot to the touch, and she suddenly remembered he had been ill. Had it only been a few hours ago? His entire body trembled, and she could see the vein in his neck throbbing with his racing heartbeat. His head dropped forward as he began coughing, a harsh rattling sound that scared her.

"John," she said softly.

Hazel eyes gazed wearily at her. At least the rage was gone. Blood had dried in crusty black streaks down a face that was beginning to swell and bruise.

"We need…. Do you have any antibiotic wipes or bandages in your vest?"

He inclined his head and started to fumble in a pocket, but his hand dropped limply in his lap as he began to list sideways. She knelt beside him, bracing him against her shoulder as she searched the vest. She found a couple of wipes and gently cleaned most of the blood from his face. She could feel him relaxing even as his muscles continued to twitch.

"It's time to go now, Colonel Sheppard. On your feet."

He blinked in consternation. "Go where?"

"Home, John. We need to get to the stargate. Can you stand?"

"Hmmm? Oh, sure. I can do that." He lurched to his feet, staggering as he tried to find his balance. "See, nothing to it."

"Good. Now, which way is the stargate?"

He pulled the LSD from his vest and activated it. "That way," he said pointing to his left. They walked slowly toward the signal with Sheppard stumbling occasionally. Weir held onto his arm, pulling him up as he fell. Finally, he tripped and landed on his wounded shoulder. He cried out in pain and lay very still.

"Oh, no you don't. Not when we're this close." She squatted next to him. "John, you have to get up. We can't stay here."

His breath came in ragged gasps, and his eyes were clenched shut, but otherwise he didn't move. She shook his shoulder and tugged on his arm.

"Now, John. Let's go."

She sat back staring at his unresponsive form. They had no radio, no water, no food and several armed men looking for them. She drew a deep breath.

"On your feet, soldier!"

Sheppard jerked at her voice and opened his eyes.

"I said, on your feet. Move it!"

His body attempted to obey even though his gaze remained unfocused and his movements sluggish. She hauled him to his feet, draping his arm over her shoulders and holding tightly to his waist. They struggled through the foliage and trees in the general direction of the gate. She paused as they neared the edge of the woods at the sound of voices and then running feet.

Weir hoped it was her people but didn't know for sure. She lowered John to the ground and unclipped the P-90 from his vest. The only time she'd ever fired one of these was when Phebus controlled her, but she thought she remembered how. Her hand shook as she flipped the safety to off. She detested violence, but John Sheppard wasn't the only one capable of defending his people.

A rustling to her left caught her attention, and she swung the weapon toward it. A very surprised Captain Yates stared back at her. She dropped the gun and sagged in relief.

"Are you OK, ma'am?"

"Yes, Captain. We need to get Colonel Sheppard back to Atlantis."

"Yes, ma'am. Reardon, get that stretcher over here."

The Marines hurried to load their CO, who was now unconscious, on the stretcher.

"This way, Dr. Weir. The jumper is waiting."

OoOoOoOoO

The steady beep of the heart monitor brought him back to awareness. Sensory input gradually made its way to his brain. He could feel the cool linens of the bed, hear the sound of voices nearby, and smell the distinct sterile odor of the infirmary. Then his nerve endings reported, and he drew in a sharp breath as he realized he hurt all over – his back, his chest, his head, his face, his throat. He gripped the sheets, feeling the IV in the back of his hand, as shooting pain raced down his back.

"Carson? I think he's awake." A soft voice spoke near his head.

Footsteps and then another voice. "Colonel Sheppard? Open your eyes, please."

John really didn't want to, but he knew they wouldn't go away until he did. He forced his lids open and was grateful for the dimmed lights. Two very relieved faces hovered over him.

"Good to have you back with us, Colonel," Beckett said.

"Mmm. What happened?" he rasped.

"Easy, Colonel. You've had a bad time of it the past few days." Beckett gave him an ice chip and then began his regular check of vitals.

He luxuriated in the feel of the icy cold on his parched throat for a moment until his memory caught up with him. He jerked upward only to have his body scream at him.

"Relax, John, and let Carson finish."

"How are McKay and Lorne?"

"Major Lorne and Rodney have a long road to recovery, but they will be fine. The injuries to Rodney's back caused some swelling, but that's gone down. They both required a spot of surgery, and they are healing nicely."

The Scot made a couple of notes in Sheppard's chart. "You've been unconscious for five days now. We removed the bullet from your shoulder and cleaned the rest of your wounds. The next time you want to pull a fool stunt like that, you'll have to shoot me before I let you go. You took too many of those pills I gave you, and we had to shock your heart to get it back in rhythm. Plus you were dangerously close to developing pneumonia. I should have never let you out of here in your condition."

"Ronon and Teyla?"

"They've been released to finish recuperating in their quarters. I had to practically sedate them to keep them away. I promised they could visit once you were awake."

"Good." John could feel exhaustion pulling at him as his lids began sliding shut.

"Get some rest, Colonel. I'll check back later."

"OK, Doc. Thanks."

He opened his eyes again at the gentle touch on his shoulder to see Weir smiling down at him.

"You OK?"

"Yes, John, I'm fine." She pulled her chair close and sat down. "Did I ever say thank you?"

He blinked sleepily at her. "For what?"

"For rescuing me. For risking your life. Again."

He smiled. "That's what I do, but you're welcome."

"You keep saying that. I hope you know that you are more than just the guy that protects others. You are a very important part of this expedition, John Sheppard, and not just for your ATA gene. We depend on you, all of us."

He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Elizabeth-"

"I'm not kidding, Colonel. You are not expendable. You have an incredible knack for coming back against impossible odds which is a testament to both your character and your team. Sometimes we take that for granted. I don't want you to think we don't value you. So, thank you."

John didn't know how to respond. He got tongue-tied around sentiment. Weir seemed to understand, giving his arm a gentle squeeze and bidding him goodnight.

He settled into the bed, mulling over snatches of conversation.

"…_you are just as valuable as they are_…"

"_Knew you'd come_…"

"…_had to practically sedate them to keep them away_…"

"…_you are not expendable_…"

Sheppard had told Teyla once that this was his family. As sleep overtook him, he considered the possibility that maybe this family actually loved him back.

The End.

_Written for PIF meme for seramercury who wanted a Shep physical and emotional whumpage fic._


End file.
